36. Storm
Chapter 36
Storm
T he heat builds beneath my skin like a storm gathering strength. It's been pulsing through me in waves for the past day, growing stronger, hotter, more insistent with each passing hour.
And it's not just affecting me.
Fox sits across from me at the breakfast table, his honey-chamomile scent shifting toward something headier. His cheeks are flushed, his movements more deliberate than usual. My heat triggering his was not something I expected.
"I'm sorry," I say, not for the first time. "I didn't mean to drag you into this."
Fox's smile is gentle, lacking any hint of accusation. "Biology," he says simply, shrugging one shoulder. "It’s bound to happen. Especially with omegas who share a pack."
"Still," I persist, "you had everything under control. Your heat wasn't supposed to come for weeks."
Fox reaches across the table, his slender fingers covering mine in a gesture of reassurance. "Storm," he says, his hazel eyes meeting mine steadily, "your presence here has changed so much—all for the better. Including this."
Before I can respond, Jonathan appears in the doorway, his imposing frame filling the space. His smoky cedar and black pepper scent wraps around me, instantly making my omega instincts stand at attention. I hate how responsive my body is to him, to all the alphas now.
"House meeting," he announces, his green eyes moving from me to Fox and back again. "Everyone. Living room. Ten minutes." There's an unusual tension in his jaw, a tightness around his eyes.
"What's this about?" I ask, already suspecting the answer.
Jonathan's gaze flicks to Fox momentarily, then back to me. "Your heat. Both your heat’s. We need to discuss arrangements." He glances at Fox again. "Is Alexander with you?"
Fox nods. "He's in the study. I'll get him."
As they both leave, I push back from the table, feeling restless and on edge. My skin feels too tight, too hot, and there's a hollow ache building low in my abdomen. I hate this loss of control, this overwhelming biology that doesn't care about my opinions or preferences.
I make my way to the living room, finding Reed already there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. His stormy eyes track me as I enter, his nostrils flaring subtly as he takes in my scent.
"Little Storm," he greets, his voice deeper than usual.
"Reed," I return, trying to sound casual despite the way his ocean scent makes my knees weak.
Frankie and Rook arrive together, deep in conversation about something, but they both go silent when they see me. Frankie's warm cinnamon and toasted marshmallow scent is soothing.
"Hey," he says, his soft brown eyes concerned. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I'm about to crawl out of my skin," I admit, allowing myself to be honest with him in a way I rarely am with others. "Has Jonathan told you what this is about?"
Frankie shakes his head. "Just that it's important."
Rook moves to my side, his arm sliding around my waist in a gesture that's both protective and possessive. I lean into him, drawing strength from his familiar presence, his strawberries and cream scent wrapping around me like a shield.
Alexander enters with Fox, their fingers intertwined. Fox's flush has deepened, and I can tell by the way Alexander keeps glancing at him that he's noticed the change in his scent as well. Jonathan follows them in, his expression carefully neutral as he takes in the room.
"Let's get started," he says, moving to stand before the fireplace. Whether he knows it or not, he commands the room just by standing there. "We have matters to discuss before things progress further."
My heat. Fox's heat. The unspoken reality of what's coming hangs in the air between us all.
"First," Jonathan continues, his gaze landing on Rook, "we need to address pack status." He straightens, his shoulders squaring. "Rook Holloway. You came here as Storm's alpha, though without formal pack ties to the rest of us. Given current circumstances, I'm proposing we formally extend pack membership to you. If that's what you want?"
Rook tenses beside me, obviously caught off guard. I squeeze his hand, silently encouraging him to speak freely.
"I want to be wherever Storm is," he says simply, his dark eyes meeting Jonathan's green ones without flinching. "If that means joining your pack, then yes."
Jonathan nods, then looks to Alexander. "Alex?"
"I have no objections," Alexander says, his tone warm where Jonathan's is cool. "You've proven yourself trustworthy. You belong here, with Storm and with us."
"Reed?" Jonathan prompts, turning to the most volatile of his pack.
Reed uncrosses his arms, pushing off from the wall. His stormy eyes sweep over Rook, assessing. "You're a fighter," he says finally. "You've got instincts. You'll do what's necessary to protect what's yours." He pauses, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "Yes. I agree."
I release a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Reed's approval wasn't guaranteed, not with the territorial instincts he tries so hard to hide, not to mention their truce. When he catches me watching him, his lips quirk up in a small smirk, and he actually winks at me. I roll my eyes in response, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how his approval affects me.
"Fox?" Jonathan asks, his voice softening slightly. "Your input matters here, too."
Fox looks surprised to be included in the decision. He glances at Rook, then back to Jonathan. "He loves Storm," he says simply. "That's all I need to know."
"Frankie?" Jonathan says, and his eyes pop open in shock. He clearly didn't expect to be called upon, his gaze darting nervously between the others in the room.
"I—I what?" he stammers, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. A flush creeps up his neck as everyone's attention falls on him. Then, seeming to remember his place as a pack member, he nods quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes. Rook belongs with Storm." He drops his gaze to the floor. Oh, my sweet beta boy.
"Then it's settled," Jonathan concludes. "Rook is now officially part of Pack Kingsley. Welcome."
Rook nods his acceptance, but I can tell this is just the beginning of the meeting, not the real purpose. Jonathan confirms this by shifting his stance, his expression growing more serious.
"Now for the more immediate concern. Storm and Fox will both be entering full heat very soon—likely within the next twenty-four hours, possibly sooner." His eyes move between Fox and me. "This presents certain... complexities. Fox's heats have typically involved only Alexander and myself. With Storm's heat coinciding, and with Rook, Reed and Frankie now involved, we need to establish clear boundaries and expectations."
The room falls silent. It's a situation that could quickly turn bad without proper planning. So, I’m grateful Jonathan has brought this up.
"Fox," Jonathan says, his tone gentler than I've often heard him use, "I need to know if you're comfortable having additional people present during your heat. You're under no obligation either way."
Fox looks thoughtful, his fingers still intertwined with Alexander's. "I think..." he begins, then pauses to gather his thoughts. "I think I'll be okay. With Storm, definitely. And the others..." He glances at Reed, then Rook and lands his gaze on Frankie.
"Storm?" Jonathan turns to me. "What are your thoughts?"
I take a deep breath, feeling everyone's eyes on me. "I want to help Fox too, if he'll let me. As for my heat..." I straighten my shoulders, meeting Jonathan's gaze directly. "I want everyone to be involved, if they want to be. All of you."
The scents in the room shift, a subtle tension rising as the alphas register my statement.
"Who would you allow to touch you during your heat?" Jonathan asks, his voice rougher than before.
"Everyone," I repeat, making sure there's no room for misunderstanding. "Rook, Reed, Alexander, Frankie, Fox and you, Jonathan. Everyone here is pack now. Everyone here is someone I trust."
And trust is something I don’t give to many. But here in this room. I trust them all.
Jonathan nods, then turns to Fox. "And you, Fox? Who would you be comfortable with?"
Fox hesitates, a shadow passing over his face. "Alex and Jonathan," he says softly, then adds, "And Reed and Storm. For now ."
"Just me, Alexander, Reed and Storm," Jonathan clarifies, his tone leaving no room for argument from anyone. "If something changes and Fox chooses someone else during heat, I will be the one to make that call. Is that understood?"
Frankie and Rook both nod, neither showing any sign of taking offense at the exclusion. They understand, as we all do, what Fox has been through and why his boundaries are important.
"Good," Jonathan continues. "Now, there's something else you all need to be aware of. Given how long Storm has been on suppressants, and the synchronized nature of these heats, we're likely looking at an unusually intense heat.”
"Frankie," Jonathan says, turning to my beta, who's been quiet throughout much of this conversation. "You're an official member of this pack now, and your role will be crucial. We'll need you to manage practical concerns—food, water, whatever else is needed. Are you comfortable with that as well as being part of the heat?"
Frankie straightens, a quiet determination in his eyes. "Of course. I'll take care of everything. That’s what a pack beta does."
"Consent remains paramount, regardless of heat. If any of you want to arrange something specific between yourselves before the heats begin, please inform me. Communication is essential."
He pauses, making sure everyone understands the importance of his words before moving on. "One final point," Jonathan says, bringing the focus back to him. "We need to talk about bonding claims. Both Storm and Fox are not claimed. I will discuss this privately with each omega."
The meeting concludes with a few more practical details, supplies that need to be gathered and more nesting supplies. As everyone begins to leave, Jonathan catches my eye. "Storm."
The others file out and Rook presses a quick kiss to my temple before leaving me alone with Jonathan. His green eyes watch me intently as I approach, his scent deepening in a way that makes my pulse quicken.
"Yes, Alpha?" I ask, deliberately provocative, enjoying the way his eyes darken at the designation I so rarely use with him.
"Sit," he says, gesturing to the space beside him on the couch.
Instead, I move directly to him and drop myself into his lap, enjoying the momentary surprise that flickers across his usually controlled features. "Like this?" I ask innocently.
Jonathan's hands come to rest on my hips, steadying me. "You're playing with fire, Little Omega," he warns, though there's no real scorn in his tone.
"Maybe I like getting burned," I counter, shifting slightly in his lap. "Besides, you're the one who wanted to talk."
His thumbs trace small circles against my hip bones, the simple touch sending ripples of sensation through my heat-sensitized skin.
"I wanted to make sure you know what you're in for," he says, his voice lower now, more intimate. "During your heat, the urge to be claimed and bonded will be overwhelming. I need you to tell me now, while you're clearheaded, who you'd want for that bond, if anyone. This way, I can control the situation when the time comes." His eyes hold mine, sincere and protective.
"I'm speaking with you privately so you don't feel any pressure to include everyone in your answer."
"Everyone," I say without hesitation, my voice steady despite the weight of what I'm declaring.
Jonathan's eyes narrow slightly. "Everyone? Do you understand what it means to be bonded to an alpha? It's permanent, Storm. Once that claiming bite is made, there's no going back."
The seriousness in his voice makes me pause. I reach up, tracing the sharp line of his jaw with my fingertips. "Are you trying to warn me off? Don't want to be stuck with a troublesome omega like me?"
His hand catches mine, holding it against his cheek. "That's not what I'm saying, and you know it." His green eyes search mine, unexpectedly vulnerable. "I'm trying to make sure you know what you're getting into. That whatever choice you make is fully yours."
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his words. For all his controlling tendencies, all his alpha posturing, Jonathan Kingsley is giving me a choice, ensuring I have one, even when biology might try to take it away.
"I know what I want," I tell him, leaning closer until our foreheads touch. "I want this pack. I want all of you."
"Storm," he breathes, his voice rougher now. One hand slides up my back to tangle in my wild curls, guiding my lips to his.
The kiss starts gentle, so unlike Jonathan's usual confident demeanor. I press closer, deepening the kiss, drawing a low growl from his chest that vibrates through me. His scent wraps around me, smoky cedar and black pepper intensifying with his desire, and my body responds with a flood of heat that makes me gasp against his mouth.
When we break apart, both breathing harder, his pupils are dilated, leaving only a thin ring of green. "When I have you," he says, his voice a low rumble that I feel as much as I hear it. "It will be in your nest while you're in heat, and I will claim you as mine and bond you for life, Storm."
The declaration should frighten me. This cold, controlled alpha claiming ownership of me, speaking of permanent bonds. Instead, I feel a rush of something dangerously close to joy, to rightness. After years of this push and pull between us, hate masking desire we both denied, something has finally shifted. Despite all the reasons I should run, I've fallen for him completely. What terrifies me isn't his claim—it's how desperately I want it to be true.
"Is that a promise, Alpha?" I ask, my voice huskier than intended.
Jonathan's hands tighten on me, his expression intensely serious despite the desire evident in his eyes. "It's a promise, my Little Storm. One I intend to keep."
I kiss him again, slower this time, savoring the way his control fractures just a little more with each passing second. This powerful alpha who once ran the Omega House with an iron grip, who intimidates everyone he meets—and he's coming undone from my touch, my kiss, my scent.
It's intoxicating, this power I have over him, even as my body surrenders to the heat building within me.
"Then I'll hold you to it," I murmur against his lips, sealing our pact with another kiss.
Whatever comes next—the heat, the claiming, the bonds that will form—I'm choosing it with clear eyes and an open heart.
I lift my gaze to him, my voice steady.
"I don't want birth control," I say. "I want this. I want you. All of it."
This strange, beautiful pack I've found myself part of is nothing I could have imagined when I drew Pack Kingsley's name at the Choosing Day ceremony.
It's so much more.